Musings on sharing my wife sexually with other men, my bisexual side, and about sex in general.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Hurting

Dee's been suffering with a bout of bursitis and as a result all the fun we've been having has been muted and perfunctorily efficient. My cock doesn't mind the effectual release of utilitarian ejaculation, but I swear the damned thing always wants more than usual every time it knows that Dee's not up to her usual speed. And my balls are insufferable in wanting more and more of Dee's lips and tongue on them when they know that she's doing all she can to tease them orally for as long as she can manage to hold a suitable position. Most of all, though, it's my heart that's hurting when Dee's in pain, whether from her chronic condition or something extra like this recent flare up, because her face takes on the look of the old days - the "bad years" - and that vacant look inside her eyes scares the living fuck out of me.

My brain knows full well that the wild Dee is inside there and that she'll once again emerge with all of the blistering heat I've been enjoying over the past four years when the pain has passed. My spirit, though, because it's the part of me that was most broken when Dee was constantly depressed remains insecure, always feeling that I should be able to do something to make a difference - that I should be able to ease her pain - to make things right, and I feel utterly impotent in my inability to do anything other than wait along with her for the hurting to ease.